


What Are Little Girls Made Of? Tony Thinks It Over

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6932356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets a visitor on a quiet day in the office ... but just who is it? Is there really a voice from the past? Not to be taken seriously and not, I think, Tiva. Mostly Tony but Tim, Gibbs and Abby make appearances too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Are Little Girls Made Of? Tony Thinks It Over

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this originally some time after Ziva's departure ... and long before the events of the season 13 finale. I'm not sure whether it was prophetic or not!

It was a normal day in the squad room at NCIS; well, as normal as a day could ever be in that place. Tony DiNozzo sat at his desk drinking his first coffee of the day and wondering what the day would bring. A glamorous femme fatale spy with an English accent? A raid on a pastrami factory? A car chase in a Ferrari? Perhaps not, but the sun was shining outside so he would even welcome a call to Rock Creek Park. He fell into a reverie as he continued to fantasize but jerked back to the present when the elevator dinged and he saw McGee emerge with a young girl.

Tony's eyes brightened as his brain began feverishly to think of the possibilities for teasing the McTim but, alas, his happy smile soon faded when he heard Tim say,

"That's Special Agent DiNozzo. You go over and speak to him while I take this down to be tested."

He pushed the child gently in Tony's direction before returning to the elevator. Tony watched warily as the girl approached him and, though he would have denied it, he shrank back in his chair a bit.

"Special Agent DiNozzo?" asked the girl.

"Yes," said Tony cautiously as he took a closer look at his visitor. To his inexpert eye, she looked about twelve years old. To his expert eye, her brown hair was chaotically wavy and wild, she had greeny-brown eyes, was slightly built and was wearing olive green chinos with a striped football shirt. She also seemed to be very confident, she held out her hand which Tony reluctantly took.

"Wow," he said, "that's some grip you've got there."

"I'm champion arm wrestler in my class," she said as if it was obvious. She rolled up the sleeves of her football shirt and Tony got a glimpse of an unusual bracelet.

"Uh," he said, trying to think of something to say, "uh, isn't today a school day? Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I'm suspended," said the girl.

"Why's that?"

"I hit Conrad Butterfield."

"Why?"

"He said he liked me," came the reply.

"Oh," said Tony thoughtfully. "What's the deal with your hair?"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

Tony wondered where to begin but, belatedly reached for tact, "it's a bit … er … wild. Dramatic. You can get hair straighteners you know."

"My aunt says it's in my genes."

"You have hair straighteners in your pants?" asked Tony.

"G-e-n-e-s not j-e-a-n-s," the girl said patiently.

"I knew that," said Tony a little sulkily, "it was a joke. Anyway, why is it in your  _genetic makeup_?"

"Apparently both my parents had wild hair. It is inevitable that I do too."

Tony flattened his hair which was a bit spiky after a breezy walk from the car park.

"And what's your name? And what are you doing here?" Tony asked.

"Vozanity," she said, "and I've got a letter to deliver."

"Insanity?" repeated Tony.

"No," came the frosty reply, "Vozanity."

"Poor kid," said Tony kindly, "you really got a raw deal from your parents. Bad hair and a mad name. So, who's the letter for?"

"You," said Vozanity.

"Oh," said Tony uncomfortably, "OK, where is it then?"

"The other agent took it. Said something about making sure it was safe."

"Good work, McCautious," said Tony, and then as Gibbs arrived said, "Boss. This is Zovanity."

"Vozanity," she corrected.

"Hey," said Tony defensively, "you've had longer to get used to it than me. What are you? Twelve? Thirteen?"

"I'm eight," came the reply.

"You sure?" asked Tony and then, receiving a glare, hurried on, "course you're sure. Boss, this is Insanity. I mean, Vozanity. Look, I'm just going to call you Vo. It's too early in the day for all this."

"What you doing here, Vozanity?" asked Gibbs.

"I've got a letter for Agent NiZoddo," said Vozanity with a defiant look at Tony.

"DiNozzo," corrected Tony automatically, "hey, nice one, Vo. McGee's brought the letter down to Abby's lab to test it for … well … you know, the nasty things people send us through the mail."

"Abby's not there," said Gibbs, "she's in court all day."

"Tim will cope," said Tony confidently, "Abby's updated her 'Labby for Dummies' handbook. So, Vo, do you like sports … apart from arm wrestling and beating up your class mates? Nice football shirt by the way."

"I like football," said Vozanity, "and martial arts. But not many people want to take me on."

"There's a surprise," said Tony. "Hey, I could call you Xena, after the warrior princess."

"I  _love_  that show," said Vozanity, "I wish they'd make it into a movie."

"You like movies?" asked Tony, beginning to suspect they had some common ground.

"Some," admitted the girl, "but the sisters won't let me watch anything over PG rating."

"Too bad," sympathized Tony, "but there are some pretty good kids' movies out there. I like '101 Dalmatians'".

"I preferred '102 Dalmatians'," said Vozanity.

As it looked as if Tony was about to begin a discussion about the relative merits of the two movies, Gibbs was relieved to see Tim returning.

"Letter's all clear, Tony," said Tim, "you're safe to open it."

"Thanks, McGee, could you see what it said, you know, with the X-ray thingy?"

"Doesn't work like that, Tony," said Tim, "you'll have to read it for yourself. Don't worry, I'll help you with the long words."

"Ha, ha," said Tony morosely as he took the envelope. He ripped it open and scanned the contents. The colour drained from his face and he gasped. Gibbs looked up in concern and his eyes narrowed as he waited to see what would happen. Tony re-read the letter and then looked intently at Vozanity. Tim and Gibbs waited expectantly but Tony took them by surprise.

"Show me that bracelet," he ordered.

The girl held her arm out and Tony peered at the jewellery, "that's made out of paperclips," he observed.

"I like paperclips," said Vozanity, "they are shiny and practical. Conrad Butterfield doesn't like them."

"How many languages do you speak?" asked Tony.

"Two," said the girl.

Tony seemed to relax, "only two?"

"Well, only two fluently. I'm learning another three. I have a natural infinity with languages."

"Affinity," corrected Tony absently. "But you like movies and sports?" he continued and, when Vozanity nodded, he murmured, "Well, that's something."

"DiNozzo!" said Gibbs, "what's going on?"

For answer, Tony handed him the letter. Gibbs, without his glasses readily to hand, snorted and handed it to Tim who began to read,

" _Dear Tony_

_If you are reading this letter, it means that I am no longer in your life and able to explain in person. You know that you and I always had this strange, uncanny connection …"_

A groan emerged from Tony's voice but it was difficult to interpret the emotion behind it. Gibbs gestured to Tim to carry on reading.

" _I came to fear that you and I would never be able to constipate our relationship …"_

"Consummate," moaned Tony, "consummate."

" _And so Abby and I came up with a plan. I believe that it would be wrong for the universe to be denied the merging of our DNA and so I obtained some of your sperm from the sperm bank. Abby knew of a woman who was willing to be my … our … surrogate and so we created Vozanity. In the end, it was much more efficient as it meant that I did not have to take time off work to carry our child. Our daughter will spend the first eight years of her life with Abby's nuns. I trust they will do more than teach her how to bowl although I believe that the ability to throw a ball will stand her in good stead when she begins weapons training._

_But I disperse …"_

"Digress," sighed Tony.

" _After eight years," Tim continued to read, "It will be time for you to meet your daughter. And I hope, and trust, that you will spend many happy years together. I wish I could be there to see her grow up. I am sure she will be a true warrior so long as she does not inherit your tendencies to put on weight and if she manages to be serious and single-minded. I am sure she will be all that I hope for, my genes will naturally be dominant._

_Goodbye, my love. It gives me great comfort to think that we are united in our daughter._

_Ziva."_

"You're my daughter?" said Tony.

"That's what the letter says." said Vozanity.

"And you live with Abby's nuns?" asked Tony.

"Sure," said Vozanity.

"What's your favourite football team?" asked Tony.

"I like college sports best," said Vozanity.

"Which college?"

"Ohio State."

"Why them?"

"Because they're the best."

"Actually …," began McGee.

"Hey!" said Tony, "interrupting a father/daughter moment here, McBut-in."

"Sorry," said Tim.

"Don't suppose you've seen any of the Bond movies?" said Tony.

"Well," admitted Vozanity, "I've managed to see them without the sisters knowing."

"That's my girl," said Tony, "which one did you like best?"

"Thunderball'," said Vozanity.

"Why that one?" said Tony.

"It's got Sean Connery in it," said Vozanity as if it was obvious.

"Good girl," said Tony approvingly, "you're my daughter all right."

"Not so fast, DiNozzo," said Gibbs.

"Boss, look at her, the crazy wild hair that Ziva used to have. The paperclip bangle. The violence inflicted on her classmates. The love of movies. No, it's obvious."

"We could run some DNA tests," suggested Tim responding to a glare from Gibbs.

"No need," said Tony loftily, "this is my daughter and we will spend the rest of our lives together, won't we, Vo?"

"Well," said Vozanity, "I might want go to college at some point."

"Of course," said Tony magnanimously, "but I have spent eight years without you. Eight precious years and I need to make that up to you. I shall go to college with you when the time comes. We shall not be separated ever again."

"Oh," said Vozanity, "but you'll be at work some of the time, won't you?"

"No," said Tony, standing up and looking proud, "my life will now revolve around you, my sweet, darling girl. Boss, I have to leave you. My days of serving this proud country are at an end. From now on, my days will be devoted to my daughter and that will be a worthy use of my talents and my energy. Come, my child and we will walk out towards the sunset together."

"Tony!" wailed Tim, "wait, don't you think you should think this over? Not make any rash decisions?"

"McGee," said Tony looking surprised, "you are always saying that I am irresponsible and shallow. And you were right."

"Were?" said McGee.

"Were," agreed Tony, "but no more. In each man's life there is a moment which demands that a choice be made. A crossroad where a direction must be taken. I can no longer live this  _frivolous_ life. I must embrace my destiny and this sweet girl." He stood up and walked with arms outstretched towards Vozanity, "come to me, my darling."

Vozanity shrieked in horror and backed away, straight into Gibbs who looked at her sternly.

"What is the matter, my child?" asked Tony in a puzzled voice as he continued to walk towards her.

"Uh, Tony," said McGee, "I really think you should think about this. Get a DNA test done, that'll give you some thinking time."

Tony loftily ignore his co-worker and spoke to Vozanity instead, "Vo, don't you want to come home with me?"

Vozanity shook her head.

"Why not?" said Tony in a puzzled voice, "we will have such fun together. I will teach you how to throw knives and shoot my gun. Just think how it will help you intimidate your school friends."

Vozanity paused and thought this over, "and a shotgun?" she asked, "a really big one?"

"Sure," said Tony, "the bigger the better. And I don't think you need go to school for a while either. I think we need to spend some quality father/daughter time together. I think we'll go to Hawaii. I'll show you where Magnum was filmed; I've always wanted to take a child on holiday. What do you think?"

"Great," she said, "that'd be cool."

"But, Tony," said McGee, "you can't take a child out of school."

"But I'm her father, Tim, I can do whatever I want."

"But, but," said Tim.

"Tony's right," said Gibbs, "he can do what he wants. I'm pleased to see him taking responsibility like this. Tony, I'll square it with the Director. You can go right now. No need to work your notice. Some things are more important. Goodbye. I wish you both all the happiness in the world."

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony, "that means the world to me. Come on, Tim, be happy for me."

"But, but," said Tim.

"Yes, I'll miss you too," said Tony sadly, "but the time had to come when we would go our separate ways. Come on, give me a hug for old times."

"No," wailed Tim again, "you can't do this."

"Why not?" asked Tony with a hint of menace.

"Because … because …" stuttered Tim.

"Because Vozanity is not my daughter?" demanded Tony.

"But … but …" stammered Tim as he toppled into his chair. He looked up and met the combined glares of Tony, Gibbs and Vozanity. It was all too much, "how did you know?" he said.

"You mean besides trying to pass a twelve year old off as an eight year old?" asked Tony, "do you really think that  _I_  can't work out a woman's age?"

McGee shook his head.

"And those paper clips? Since when did Ziva ever use  _coloured_  paperclips?"

McGee nodded humbly.

"But I  _might_  have bought it, McGee, but you made one obvious mistake," said Tony.

"What?" asked McGee miserably.

"Thunderball, the best James Bond movie?"

"What was wrong with that?" asked Tim.

"It's the movie where James Bond flies a jetpack, Tim. Who else but you would think that was the best Bond movie?"

"Oh," capitulated Tim.

"What's your name?" asked Gibbs of the girl.

"Susan," she said, "Susan Smith."

"Where did McGee find you?" asked Gibbs.

"Sarah McGee runs a drama group," said Susan, "Mr McGee saw me there a few nights ago and said I looked like a couple of his friends and would I like to try some method acting."

"How much did he pay you?" asked Tony.

"$100," said Susan, "and I want paying."

"Pay up, McGee," ordered Gibbs.

"Make it $150," said Tony, "Susie here needs to buy some hair straighteners."

McGee unwillingly paid up and Susan pocketed the money happily.

"Nice meeting you," she said, "could you still show me how to throw a knife?" she said hopefully.

Gibb spoke before Tony could answer, "I could still arrest you for deception," he said gazing at her seriously. Susan weighed the situation up and decided that Gibbs seemed to be immune to her charms,

"OK," she said, "but can I keep the bangle? The paperclips are kinda cool."

Gibbs nodded assent and summoned Dorneget with a nod of his head.

"Escort this young lady back to school, Agent Dorneget," he ordered, "and don't believe anything she says."

McGee swallowed anxiously as he was left alone with Tony and Gibbs.

"Nice one, McPrank," said Tony approvingly, "you really had me going there for a while. Overplayed your hand, though. Rookie mistake. What gave you the idea?"

"Abby," said McGee, "she was talking about how theoretically it would be possible to steal … um, acquire sperm and an egg and 'make' a baby."

"Oh, McGee," said Tony, "there are much more  _fun_  ways to make a baby. Why …"

"Why don't we get some work done," interrupted Gibbs, "this is a federal office after all."

"On it, Boss," came two replies.

On the whole, Tim thought he'd got off lightly.

NCISNCIS

Abby came to visit Tim, Gibbs and Tony the next morning. She had a big purse with her.

"Tim," she said, "Tony told me about the trick you played on him yesterday."

Tim laughed a little nervously.

"I told you about the sperm and egg thing in confidence," she reproached him.

"I didn't realise," said Tim.

"Tony told me that he agreed to take responsibility for the ZivaTony baby. I was proud of him," said Abby.

"He didn't mean it," said Tim.

Tony smiled virtuously, "I would have done it, if it had been real."

"Would you step up?" said Abby seriously, "would you step up if you found out you had a child."

Tim weighed up the possibilities, "Of course," he said, "uh, of course."

"That's good," said Abby, fixing Tim with her big, luminous eyes, "that's good."

Tim sighed with relief that he had come up to Abby's somewhat odd standards. He bent to his work again but Abby hadn't finished. She opened her enormous purse and drew out a bundle of baby,

"This is Mitbaby," she said, "he's three months old."

"What?" squawked Tim.

"Mit for Tim," she said, "baby for Abby. Our names merged just as our … bits … are. It was meant to be."

"How did you get my sperm?" asked Tim.

"Timmy," said Abby reprovingly, "do you really want to know?"

Tim reflected and then shook his head.

"I didn't think so," said Abby.

"But how, who?" asked Tim.

"Serena agreed to be our surrogate," said Abby.

" _Our?_ " said Tim.

"Our," agreed Abby, "you're not going to turn your back on our baby, are you?"

Tim looked over Abby's shoulder where Tony was standing with a grave look on his face and Gibbs was scowling and looking ready to find his Sig.

"No, of course not," said Tim.

Abby smiled, "Great. You can look after him for the rest of the day. Get to know him. Oh, his diaper needs changing."

She placed Mitbaby on the desk and stood back. Gibbs looked on and tried to work out if Abby's fingers were crossed or not. Then he shrugged, he needed coffee.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure Tony's canon daughter will turn out to be more mellow than Vozanity ... although Vo has her good points.
> 
> I leave you to decide if Mitbaby really exists or Tim is being pranked. And I'd never realised that Tim is an anagram of MIT: I wonder if that influenced his choice of college?


End file.
